From Memphis With Love
by kclaura2003
Summary: Lewellen goes out walking on a summer night and ends up face to face with her idol, Elvis Presley. But was it all just a dream and will she be let down yet again? Based off the 2007 film Hounddog. One-shot and an OC.


**Hi, there! :) Thanks for checking out my story.**

**This is based off the movie: Hounddog (2007). There is an OC.**

**"Rip It Up", "Ready Teddy", "Don't Be Cruel", & "Heartbreak Hotel" by Elvis Presley.**

**"Walkin' After Midnight" by Patsy Cline.**

**I do not own Hounddog. Enjoy!**

"Stranger Lady" wasn't kidding when she said she had a room fixed up for me. It's been almost a year since I left Daddy and Grandma and went to live Ellen. The house is about the size of my Daddy's house except its not nearly as bare and old. My room is painted pink, just like the car Ellen drives. There's a twin size mattress dressed in white sheets with a rose-print comforter on top. A white eyelet dust ruffle pokes out from underneath the mattress. I have antique dresser and vanity on which sits my record player, in which, surprisingly, does not have an Elvis record on it. A girl from school loaned me her Patsy Cline record and here lately I cannot get "Walkin' After Midnight" out of my head.

However, every morning, I wake up to see Elvis' handsome face smiling back at me from the poster on the back of my bedroom door. Every time I either enter or exit my room I brush my hand gently over Elvis' face and plant a kiss right there on his cheek. When I crawl into bed at night I typically gaze over at him and just stare for awhile, until my eyelids can no longer stay open and I softly whisper "I love you, Elvis" before I drift off to sleep. I can feel myself now grinning wildly at the memory of actually seeing him, in the flesh, drive by in his pink Cadillac that time he was in town for a show. He blew me a kiss and to this day it's a wonder I didn't faint right there on the side of that dirt road. I was still standing there long after the beautiful vehicle had disappeared into the night, jumping around, twirling, and screaming my head off: "ELVIS! ELVIS!"

I told Buddy the first thing the next time I saw him but he didn't believe me.

Buddy. The thought of my former best friend makes me roll over in bed in a huff. I punch my pillow and groan. I don't see much of Buddy anymore. Well, I take that back - actually I see him just as much as I used to. But we just don't speak. Sometimes I catch him staring at me, at school or at church. There's a look on his face when he looks at me, what most people would say a regretful look, but I know better. I don't let his baby face fool me anymore. It's a look of worry. He's worried I'll tell on him and that Wooden boy and what they did to me. I sometimes see him 'round with that Grasshopper girl. I want to punch both of them in their faces, even though technically Grasshopper didn't do me any wrong. But she went with Buddy to the Elvis show, that show I wanted to be at more than anything in the world. That was supposed to be me there, with Buddy. After all, he was my best friend or so I mistakenly thought. A best friend doesn't coax you into a shed in thunderstorm with a promise of an Elvis ticket. A best friend doesn't tell you to strip off your clothes and do a dance for an older teenage boy who held the ticket I so desperately wanted. A best friend doesn't stand by and watch while the older boy forces himself on top of you and….does the unthinkable.

I have never told anybody about what happened to me that night. Sometimes I think I should but I don't. I get to be thinking about Buddy and how awful of human being he is to allow that to happen to me…for even putting me in that kind of situation. But then I think: How stupid was I? How stupid was I to even go through with that? Common sense told me something wasn't right about the whole "deal". That's what Buddy kept saying "It's part of the deal." But I was so eager…I was so desperate for that ticket. And the bad thing was…both Buddy and that Wooden boy knew just how desperate I was and would have done anything for that ticket. What gets me to this day is: what did Buddy get out of that? I know for a fact what that Wooden boy got - something I'll never get back. But if I could ask Buddy one thing it would be: What was in it for you? That's something I'll never understand til the day I die I suppose.

It's a humid August night. I toss and turn in my sheets, I throw off the comforter and turn on my oscillating fan but I still sweat like a pig. The joys of Alabama in late summer.

In between sweating my buns off and getting worked up thinking about Buddy I'll never get any rest. I decide to go for a walk. I slip on my home made button up day dress and creep out of my bedroom window. I'm not worried about Ellen waking up because the lady sleeps like a baby.

I walk down the dusty road, feeling the dirt stick to my sweaty feet, and listen to the cicadas chirping deafeningly. It's the road, surrounded with moss trees on each side, I used to walk down with Buddy all the time. I feel a slight pang in my stomach again every time I think of that boy. I haven't made any new friends since Buddy and in a few more weeks we'll both be starting junior high. I cringe at the thought of seeing him 'round school, hanging out with the all the popular kids. He'll have Grasshopper on his arm, too, and that little rich princess will have on the best clothes, really stylish clothes.

I shake the thoughts from my head and find myself humming "Walkin' After Midnight", which made sense because that was what I was doing after all.

With each step I take, I know I'm getting further and further away from Ellen's but I keep on walking.

I was getting to the end of town and the only other business of the east side was a laundry mat and a greasy spoon diner. As I turned around to start walking home, my eye caught sight of the greasy spoon and I noticed they still had their lights on.

Curiosity bubbled up inside me and I had to go check it out. They typically stay open later on the weekends to cater to the teenage crowd but I knew it was well past their closing hours. _Did they forget to turn the lights off?_ I wondered as I approached the café. But then again what dummy would forget to turn off the lights?

The owner, Ned, drives a faded green Plymouth wagon and I saw that still parked out front. However, off to the side of the restaurant I saw what looked like a silhouette of another car. As I slowly crept closer I realized it was another car, so black it almost blended in with the night and so shiny I could see my reflection in it. I walked around the length of the car, it was the longest car I'd ever seen, and saw it was a Cadillac and had a Tennessee license plate.

_Who does Ned know from Tennessee with a car like this?!_ I wondered as I stood up on a milk crate to look inside. I bent at the knees and kept my eyes level with the window pane. I saw a bunch of men, finely dressed, all gathered around the bar table: eating, drinking, and belly laughing loudly. Thick cigarette smoke filled the diner. There were at least six or seven men in there. Three with their backs turned to me, one guy in the middle I couldn't see, and three on the other side of the middle man. I watched as Ned came in from the kitchen, bearing more plates, grinningly wildly at his customers and talking and cutting up with them.

Everybody seemed to be paying close attention to whoever the man was sitting in the middle but he was the only one I couldn't get a good glimpse at because a big, brick wall of another man blocked my view. I noticed Ned was gone again and I figured he'd must of gone back to the kitchen. I ran around to the back of the restaurant and looked up at the small kitchen window. I knew he was in there but the window was up too high for me to climb on anything to get to it.

I looked around and found a few small pebbles and I threw, as lightly as I could on the window, hoping I wouldn't break it.

I was about to throw one more when Ned's face appeared against window, eyes narrowed and brow wrinkled in concern. When he saw me, his eyes widened in surprise and his jaw slightly dropped. I motioned to him to come outside but he only shook his head and motioned for me to go away. I kept motioning frantically for him to come outside and he finally relented, rolling his eyes and tossing down what was probably a wash cloth.

Ned opened the back door and stepped outside.

"Lewellen?" He called. "Lewellen, whaddya doin' at here this time of night, girl?! Is something wrong?"

"No," I answered approaching him. "Who you got in there?"

Ned put his hands on his hips and looked down on me. "Lewellen." He said. "Seriously, whaddya doin' out here?"

I shrugged. "I was just out walkin' and…"

"Out walkin' after two o'clock in the morning, girl?" Ned interjected, sharply. I've always hated the way he talks to me like he's my daddy or something.

"Are you crazy?" Ned was asking now. "Go on. Beat it, kid. I'm really busy right now and I ain't got the time for this."

"Who you got in there?" I asked again this time more demanding. I took a step forward toward the door but Ned blocked the entrance with his tall, skinny body.

"Nobody," He answered quickly and nervously glanced over his shoulder.

"Nobody, huh?" I scoffed. "So who's this nobody that drives a shiny black Cadillac?"

"None of your business, little girl." Ned growled, obviously growing more and more aggravated with me.

"Now get on back home before I tell your daddy -" He trailed off then and his face slightly fell.

I knew what he was thinking: My father is a vegetable now and Ned could go tell him he saw me walking on the planet Mars and my father would only sit there and grin. He might even ask Ned if I was having a good time.

Ned kept looking over his shoulder, his face stressed with anxiety, his skinny legs kept shaking.

"Look," Ned whispered softly, pleadingly. "Go home, please. They're really important guests and I don't want to screw this up, OK? Just go home."

"Hey, Neddie boy!" A big, booming voice came from one of the men inside. "Where you at, man?!"

"I'll…I'll be right there, sir!" Ned called back anxiously. He turned back to me. I stuck out my lip and pouted.

"Don't give me that look." Ned whined. "Just go home, OK? Please? I'll make it up you, Lewellen."

"How?" I asked.

Ned sighed exasperatedly. "I dunno know yet…I figure something out…will ya please go already?!"

"OK," I sighed. I pretended to walk away but then I spun around and said:

"Hey, Ned!"

"What now?!" He asked.

"Think fast!"

And with that I darted past him, faster than the speed of a lit bottle rocket on the Fourth of July. I ran into the kitchen all the awhile Ned was yelling and chasing after me. As I ran throughout the kitchen I knocked over pots, pans, dishes, anything to create an obstacle course for Ned so he'd have a harder time catching me.

"I swear to God, girl, I'm gonna whoop your ass!" I heard Ned yelling from behind, tripping on all the stuff I threw on the floor.

"You gotta catch me first, Ned!" I called out back to him, snickering. I busted through the double swinging doors that led out into the diner.

If I would have been a car I'd would have left skid marks all over the road. I slid to abrupt stop as soon as I saw who the mystery man sitting in the middle was.

The other men all simultaneously jumped out of their seats at the sight of me barging in through the doors, looks of panic and confusion written all over each of their faces.

The place went dead silent except for the curses and yells of Ned still trying to fight his way through.

I felt my eyes bug out and my mouth drop. I felt like somebody had kicked me in the stomach and knocked all the wind out of me. My heart thumped so loudly I'm sure they all could hear it.

There, still sitting relaxed and calmly in the middle, was…Elvis Presley.

I felt my knees tremble every so slightly and then they completely buckled and I was about to collapse on the black and white checkered floor but I felt Ned's arms wrap around my waist and he lifted me up.

"I swear to God, Lewellen!" He whispered harshly in my ear. "What did I tell you, girl?! I swear to God…you're gonna pay for this!"

I began frantically squirming in his grip like a fish out of water, my legs kicking wildly.

"Lemme go! Lemme go!" I cried.

It was Elvis. Elvis! Again! Right there, in the flesh. This was almost too good to be true. But here I was again struggling for another chance to meet the one person I admired so much. I'll be damned if I was going to let this oppurinity pass by again. I kept on kicking and screaming.

"Stop fighting me!" Ned growled and he almost had me through the swinging double doors. I felt hot tears brimming on eyelids. _No! Not again_, I thought. _I get so close and then it all gets torn away from me!_

"Hold on there, man."

That unmistakable smooth drawl made Ned instantly loosen his grip on me and I quit kicking.

"Go on and let go of her, man. She ain't doing anybody no harm."

I felt myself being lowered to the floor and released. The other men slowly began to relax and sit back down once they realized I was just some girl and not a potential threat to their boss.

"Mr. Presley," Ned stammered. "I swear I had nothing to do with this, sir. This is just a neighborhood girl…I didn't mean to cause any trouble…"

Elvis chuckled and waved him off. "Relax, son, you're still cool with me."

Then those blue eyes, those very same blue eyes that would look back at me from the poster on my bedroom door every night, shifted over to me. I felt electric currents ripple throughout my body.

"Hey there, young lady." Even his speaking voice sounded like he was singing; it was that beautiful. "Ain't it past your bed time?"

I could only manage a weak nod of my head in response. I wanted to jump up and down and scream like I did that night I saw him drive by on the dirt road. I wanted to sing and dance for him. I had all these plans made up in my mind of what I was going to do and say to Elvis but now that the real chance is here: I can only stand there and gawk at him like a dumbstruck fool.

"Why don'tcha come out from behind the counter and come say hi on this side?" One of the other men offered. He smiled and slapped a hand down on Elvis back and said: "He ain't gonna bite ya."

That seemed to crack everybody up. I wondered if some of them were drunk but I didn't see any liquor sitting around. I tentatively glanced back at Ned who was standing behind me, still looking a little bit scared he was in trouble. His only response to me was a slight shrug of the shoulders and a quick eye roll that told me he was still going to have a bone to pick with me later. But I wasn't worried about that: I was meeting Elvis!

I came out from around the counter and slowly made my way up to Elvis. As I got closer and closer I couldn't believe how such an exquisite man existed. It was like seeing some rare and exotic creature in a _National Geographic_. He wore a white button up dress shirt and black dress pants with buck shoes as white as snow. His slick jet black hair was swept up in the signature pompadour. His blue eyes seemed kind of tired yet welcoming as I approached. When I stopped about an arm's length away, the corner of his mouth curled up into that boyish smile that drove girls like me crazy.

"Hey, honey," Elvis said and stuck out his hand. "I'm Elvis. What's your name?"

I was so nervous I was fidgeting with the ends of my pull over dress. I was taken back that the most famous man in the world right now would introduce himself _to me_ as if he was just some regular Joe-Blow on the street!

I tentatively put my hand in his and shyly shook it. "Lewellen," I replied as confidently as I could; trying to shake off being star-struck and nervous.

"Lewellen," Elvis repeated and seemed to pondered it for a moment. "That's an unusual name…but I like it. It's a pretty name for a pretty girl."

I felt my eyes light up and my mouth stretch into a smile so wide I thought it was going to crack my face.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" I exclaimed. "Thank you, Mr. Presley…Oh my god, I…I love your songs…I love your voice…I love all your movies…" I knew I had suddenly turned into a blabbering fool but I couldn't stop myself. I was jumping from foot to foot as I went on:

"Mr. Presley, I love the way you dance…I love the way you dress…I love…YOU!"

Ned and the other guys seemed to be amused by my rambling, trying to hide their snickers and grins, but Elvis only smiled warmly.

"Thank you, Lewellen," Elvis said. "Thank you very much. It's always nice to hear people like my work. That means a lot to me, sweetheart, thanks."

Elvis seemed to be considering me for a moment and then asked: "Now, I may be crazy but…haven't I seen you somewhere before? You look mighty familiar to me. Have you been at one of my shows by any chance?"

My heart skipped a beat as I thought of the night I had seen him drive by in the pink Cadillac. Was it possible he actually remembered me?! I wanted to ask him if he remembered that night but with Ned and all the other guys around, I didn't want to risk the chance of looking like some delusional fan making up stories if Elvis really didn't remember.

"No, sir," I answered. "I haven't been to any of your shows. I almost went last year when you came to the next town over but…" I trail off as the memory of what happened comes back to haunt me. I look down at my bare feet. "Something came up," I say. "I couldn't go,"

"Aw, that's too bad, honey." Elvis said. "I'm sorry."

I almost said I was sorry too, for different reasons, but I kept my mouth shut.

"You live 'round here?" Elvis asked.

"Yes, sir, I do." I replied. "Just off of County Road 512."

I cringed at what I just said. Everything I've said so far sounded so dumb. _What does Elvis Presley need my exact address for?_ I chastised myself. I should have said a simple yes to the question.

A brief awkward silence filled the diner until one of the men asked me where my shoes were.

"At home," I replied. "I never really wear shoes 'cept to school."

"Where you going to school at?" Elvis asked.

"I'll start junior high next month," I told him, proudly.

"Wow, junior high, huh?" Elvis smiled. "Are you excited?"

I nodded despite that fact I knew I was going to friendless. "Yes, sir, I am."

Elvis chuckled. "Honey, you don't have to call me "sir," or "Mr. Presley." "Elvis" works just fine."

"Yes, sir,…I mean, Elvis," I stammer.

Elvis then asked me if I had some nice outfits to wear on the first day of school and I really wasn't sure how to answer. The truth was all I had was what I had on at the moment, other home-made dresses and skirts, and thrift shop threads. I didn't want him to pity me so I shook my head yes.

"Oh yeah, yes…Mr. - Elvis…yes. Got plenty of nice clothes to wear." I cringed at high-pitched my voice became and I really hoped I sounded sincere.

"You know what you'd look really cute in?" Elvis said. "One of those skirts the girls your age are wearin' these days…whaddya call 'em?" He turned to one of the guys in the group and said:

"Hey, Billy, whaddya call that skirt your little niece wears all the time? You know, that one that puffs out and has a little dog on it?"

"Poodle skirt?" The man suggested and Elvis snapped his fingers as if to say "A-ha!" and turned back and smiled at me.

"Yeah, a poodle skirt. You'd got any of those?"

A poodle skirt. I'd seen Grasshopper and a few other wealthy girls wear the circular skirts with the matching crinoline petticoats underneath and the pretty little poodle dog appliqué on the side. I remember I once asked Grandma if she could make me one and she told me they weren't "practical".

I answered honestly, telling Elvis I didn't have any poodle skirts but I plenty of other stuff to wear. A few guys stood, stretched and yawned. Another man lit a cigarette, took a long drag and exhaled a giant puff of smoke as he spoke to Elvis:

"E, man. It's getting late. We should really get back on the road. Birmingham is still about two more hours away."

"Yeah, I know, man." Elvis sighed running his fingers through his hair.

"We just come up from a show in Mobile," Elvis explained to me. "Gotta be in Birmingham tomorrow night. But I remember playing here, yeah. It was a good crowd. Nice folks. This seems like a nice little town you got here, Miss Lewellen."

I smiled in response but a felt a pang of sadness growing inside me. He was going to have to leave soon and I knew I'd never see him again. It was amazing I'd even seen him the first time and completely unfathomable that I'd see him a second time.

The other men began to shift around and start talking about getting back on the road. Elvis looked so tired to me, like the way I felt after a long car ride somewhere. He turned to Ned and thanked him for his service. Elvis snapped his fingers at one of his men and the man came over and handed a bill to Ned that made his jaw drop.

Elvis stood up off the stool he was sitting on and squatted down to my level and took my hand in his.

"Hey," He whispered. "Would you like to hear a song or two before I go?"

I let out a squeal as I jumped up and down. "Oh my god, Elvis!" I cried. "Would you really?!"

"Of course I would!" He exclaimed. "It'll be my pleasure."

He turned to one of his men and said: "Hey, Joe, go grab my guitar from the car right fast."

"E, man…We don't really have the time to do this…It's almost three 'o clock in the morning as it is…"

Elvis only smiled and waved him off. "Just go get my guitar, man."

The man returned with a beautiful Gibson guitar. Elvis slung the strap around him and strummed a few chords and began to harmonize. I was so giddy I couldn't control myself. I glanced over at Ned behind the counter and he too looked as excited as I was to get a private Elvis show.

"Whaddya wanna hear darlin'?" Elvis asked me. "Name it and I'll play it."

"Anything!" I exclaimed about to bounce off the walls.

Elvis grinned. "Awlright then, about this one…"

He tapped a beat on the wooden panel of the guitar and began to sing a capella:

"Well, it's Saturday night and I just got paid/A fool about my money, don't try to save/ My heart says go, go have a time/'Cause its Saturday night and I feel fine…

Elvis then started strumming the music and launched into his dance moves and I thought I was going to losing it.

"I'm gonna rock it up/I'm gonna rip it up/I'm gonna shake it up/Gonna ball it up/I'm gonna rip it up/And ball tonight…"

I started jumping around and dancing just like the way I do when I listen to his records in my room. I didn't care if I looked like a fool to the others. This was officially the best night of my life.

Elvis then went into bits of "Ready Teddy," "Don't Be Cruel," and sang the first few lines of "All Shook Up" before he handed the guitar to another man and told him to keep on playing. Elvis took my hands in his and together we began dancing as we sang:

"She touched my hand and what I chill I got/Her lips are like a volcano that's hot/I'm proud to say she's my buttercup/ I'm in love/I'm all shook up/Uh-huh, yeah, yeah…I'm all shook up!"

When that song was over Elvis said: "Let's break it down some, whaddya say, honey?"

"Well…since my baby left me/Well, I found a new place to dwell/Well, it's down at the end of lonely street/At heartbreak hotel… c'mon, girl, help me out here…

I happily joined in: "Well, I'll be there so lonely baby/Well, I'm so lonely baby, I'll be there so lonely baby/I could die…"

The man playing launched into the guitar solo and there was me and Elvis slowly swaying to the music back and forth.

Somebody made another comment about it being time for them to leave and I reluctantly let go of Elvis.

"Well, it sure has been fun, Miss Lewellen." Elvis told me. "You take care of yourself, OK?"

"I will," I answered.

"Have fun in school…and stay in school. School's important, ya know."

"Yes, sir…Elvis. Yes, I will."

He flashed me that sexy smile of his again and I smiled back. Right before he turned to walk away I said:

"Elvis?"

He glanced back at me. "What is it, baby?"

"Can I give you hug?"

"Absolutely, darlin'. C'mere."

I ran into his arms and buried my face in the crook of his neck. I thought I was going to melt into a puddle when I felt his arms wrap around me and squeeze me tight. I felt myself on the verge of tears again but this time out of joy. I finally got my Elvis show I always wanted to see and it was even better than I had ever imagined.

I woke up in a fog. I sat straight up in bed my nightgown. My old pull over day dress lay in a crumpled ball on the hardwood floor. I looked around my room as if anything in there could prove to me that what had happened last night was real. Everything looked just the same as before; even my oscillating fan was still running. I glanced over at my alarm clock: 10:05 a.m.

"Lewellen?" Ellen voice called out to me. A second later, her head popped through my door. She greeted me with a smile and said:

"Honey, are you OK? You aren't gonna sleep all day are you? It's a little bit after ten…Breakfast is ready."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll right there," I said. Ellen nodded and then left.

I rubbed the sleep out my eyes. I have dreams at night but normally I can barely remember them the next morning. However, everything about last night was still so vivid to me: me taking a walk to town, the diner lights being on, the black Cadillac, me and Ned arguing, me barging in and seeing Elvis and his entourage, talking to Elvis, singing with Elvis, dancing with Elvis, hugging Elvis…

I looked over at the poster on my door. There he was smiling back at me as he always does but something about it was different now. Normally, he was ELVIS…biggest and best singer in the world, so familiar and so great, yet so untouchable…so close yet so out of sight - somebody I was crazy about but deep down knew he had no idea I even existed. Until last night. If last night wasn't dream. It couldn't have been dream! It was all too real.

Later that day, I went down to Ned's diner but found out he had taken some planned personal days off to go visit family Tuscaloosa. He would have been the only person who could tell me if it was all really a dream or not. As I walked back home I caught a glimpse of Buddy and Grasshopper together, eating ice cream cones and laughing. I turned around and took the long way home. I felt that pang of sadness and loneliness take over me again.

Not only was meeting Elvis just a dream but I was reminded of my broken friendship with Buddy and the lonely school year to come.

The week before the first day of school, I was in my room listening to some records when Ellen called for me. I walked into the kitchen to find her standing over the table inspecting a large package that had just been delivered.

"Huh…" Ellen commented. "This just came for you, Lewellen. It has your name and address and all that but there's no return address. Although…I think I see a postmark here from Memphis, Tennessee."

Memphis? I didn't know a soul in Memphis. Except for…oh my god.

"Can I open it?!" I asked, although I had already had my hands on the box, picking off the wrapping paper.

"Sure, go ahead," Ellen said. "I'm just as curious as you are."

I eagerly tore through the wrapping paper and tape and carefully lifted the lid. I tentatively folded back the white tissue paper inside to reveal…the most beautiful article of clothing I've ever seen. I let out a soft gasp.

It was a poodle skirt: pink just like Elvis' Cadillac with a black poodle appliqué. The poodle looked like its collar was fashioned out of little rhinestones. I lifted it up out of the box for a better look and saw it had another appliqué on the other side: a record and musical notes. The fabric was so soft and looked top-notch. It didn't look like the felt fabric from the local sewing shop that was for sure. Even the appliqués looked one of a kind.

"Look, honey," Ellen said. "There's more inside," And she pulled out a black clinch belt and handed it to me. I was in awe.

"Lemme see your skirt," Ellen said and when I showed it to her she gasped. "Wow! That's beautiful! But I still don't get who would have sent this to you."

I looked down into the box and found there was even more: a black satin off the shoulder blouse with the letter L embroidered in the top left corner, a pink crinoline petticoat, a pink silk scarf, and a pair of black and white Oxford shoes.

"Wow," was all Ellen could say which was more than I could say.

I didn't know what to say or to do. Never before in my life have I ever had such nice things. The only thing left inside the box was a long white envelope. On the front it simply read: Lewellen in the prettiest cursive I'd ever seen. It wasn't sealed, the flap was only tucked inside, so I lifted the flap and pulled out a piece of nice stationary paper.

It read:

_Dear Lewellen,_

_Thought you might want to go back to school in style._

_Stay sweet and thanks for being a fan._

_With Love Always,_

_- E.P._

"Well?" Ellen asked. "What does it say? Who is it from?"

I felt a single tear of happiness rolling down my face.

"It was real," I whispered.

Ellen leaned in closer. "What, honey? What was real?"

I looked up and my tears began to follow steadily and my mouth spread into a smile.

"It was real," was all I could say. "It was all real."


End file.
